


The Sparrow (The "Deep Breath" Remix)

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Chronic Pain, M/M, Writer Andrew Minyard, gardener neil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: He paused at the back of the house, breathing in the fresh air and gazing at the mountains.  Sometimes, his new life still didn’t feel real.  Part of him worried that he’d wake up someday to find this had all been a desperate fever dream, and he was still on the run, or worse, he’d been caught and this was the last ditch attempt of a broken mind to find solace.He breathed in.  He could smell the earth, baking in the sun and the scent of coffee drifting from the kitchen window.  He could hear a bird, twittering from a vine on the side of the house, and a crashing sound from upstairs.  He could feel the ground, solid under his feet, holding him up, and the breeze from the mountains ruffling his hair.  He could see the mountains, the blue sky, the puffy white clouds. He breathed out.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75
Collections: AFTG Remix 2020





	The Sparrow (The "Deep Breath" Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fuzzballsheltiepants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzballsheltiepants/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Sparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645940) by [fuzzballsheltiepants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzballsheltiepants/pseuds/fuzzballsheltiepants). 



“Get up, loser.” A kick to the side of his bed pulled Neil out of a deep sleep.

“Whats’it?” he asked instead of rolling out of bed and tackling the intruder to the ground. He was momentarily proud of himself. It felt like growth.

“I have a job for you,” Renee said, grabbing his blanket by the corner and dragging it off his bed.

“It’s Saturday morning,” he grumbled.

“I did expect to meet you on the way back from your run,” Renee said. “What’s up?”

“I’m trying this new thing,” Neil said. “It’s called sleeping in.” Again, this was growth.

“Well, not this time,” Renee said. “Coffee is made and I got you one of your weird protein bar things.”

“How’d you even get in here?” Neil asked, dragging himself out of bed and beginning to hunt for clothes to change into.

“Please, Neil, you live in a shitty rental. You think you have a lock that can keep me out?” Renee smirked. “Don’t wear your nice jeans. You’ll be gardening.”

“Thank you so much for offering my services,” Neil said sarcastically.

“I’ve got more troops to wrangle. I’ll text you the address!” Renee yelled over her shoulder as she disappeared down the stairs.

Neil shoved the dark blue jeans Allison had bought him last week back into his drawer and pulled out his old, faded jeans with holes in the knees and a soft grey t-shirt he had stolen from Matt.

By the time he was dressed, fed, and caffeinated, Renee had texted him directions to a place outside of town in the foothills. It was owned by a man named Andrew; he had just moved in and the yard needed work.

She hadn’t mentioned exactly what needed to be done so he loaded his truck with his basic tools. There wasn’t much he could do without seeing the space first and what he had to work with.

When he reached the house, it was already teeming with people. He could see them through the bare windows, carrying boxes and doing other various domestic things.

The house itself was little and cute, fairly well maintained, although a giant vine had taken over one wall, and the view around them was spectacular with the mountains so close. The yard itself was an absolute tragedy. Whoever had lived here before had obviously not been interested in landscaping. The remains of a concrete patio covered half the yard, and the rest of it had been used as a junkyard. Not even grass would grow on the bare dirt. Neil was itching to dig it up and make it beautiful and green. Slowly, he circled the house, taking in the view, his mind already hard at work designing his vision for the poor, pathetic yard.

He paused at the back of the house, breathing in the fresh air and gazing at the mountains. Sometimes, his new life still didn’t feel real. Part of him worried that he’d wake up someday to find this had all been a desperate fever dream, and he was still on the run, or worse, he’d been caught and this was the last ditch attempt of a broken mind to find solace.

He breathed in. He could smell the earth, baking in the sun and the scent of coffee drifting from the kitchen window. He could hear a bird, twittering from a vine on the side of the house, and a crashing sound from upstairs. He could feel the ground, solid under his feet, holding him up, and the breeze from the mountains ruffling his hair. He could see the mountains, the blue sky, the puffy white clouds. He breathed out.

Someone joined him, also facing the mountains. Neil was startled at first, but managed to find a smile. He didn’t recognize the man beside him. He was short, shorter even than Neil, and he didn’t return Neil’s smile.

“You must be Andrew,” Neil said, offering his hand.

Andrew pointedly ignored his outstretched hand and Neil didn’t push it.

“Neil,” Neil said. “I’m a friend of Allison’s.”

“What fresh hell do you have in store for me?” Andrew asked.

Neil couldn’t help laughing. Andrew could not sound any less enthusiastic. “Depends on what you want. Clean all this trash up to start; after that, it’s up to you.”

“Up to me,” Andrew said, squinting his eyes in scrutiny. “In that case, can you get rid of the assholes who have taken over my house?”

Neil couldn’t help grinning at that. “Sorry, no,” he said, dropping his eyes when Andrew didn’t drop his own. “You know how it is. Once you’re in Renee’s clutches, you will help people and you will like it.”

“I most definitely will not.”

Neil laughed again. When he was six years old, he had been allowed to go over to a friend’s house after school. It had only happened once, when his father had been out of town for weeks, but he still remembered teasing their fluffy, constantly disgruntled cat. Neil could see no difference.

Worried that Andrew could somehow see the image in his mind, Neil turned back to the yard and picked up the nearest piece of trash. “I better get started.”

Neil set to work, all too aware that Andrew was still standing there, watching him. It was not nearly as unsettling as he expected.

Eventually, someone called Andrew away to the house and Neil focussed on his work.

By the time everyone was finished and clearing out, he’d made some headway. No actual landscaping had occurred but he’d piled the junk in the back of his truck to haul away to the dump and he now had a blank canvas to work with.

Allison came up to him as he was loading his tools back into the truck. “So, you’re going to take this job.”

Neil nodded. “Mob money means I don’t exactly have to stick to a budget. It will be fun.”

“Didn’t Renee tell you?” Allison asked. “I’m contracting you for this job. It’s not a favor for a friend; I’m paying you.”

“Allison—” Neil protested.

“You do good work,” Allison said. “You should be paid for it.”

“I have the money. My actual landscaping business is doing pretty well and my mother’s blood money is just sitting around and rotting,” Neil said. “If you try to pay me, I just won’t accept.”

“You like him, don’t you?” Allison said.

“Andrew?” Neil laughed. “I talked to him for all of ten seconds. I’m doing it for the yard. I will not let this wasteland spoil the beauty of the mountains.”

“Sure,” Allison said, smirking.

* * *

Neil showed up at Andrew’s place bright and early the following Sunday. Andrew didn’t come out to meet him so he set to work unloading his truck. He stood in the middle of the yard and looked around, letting the space speak to him, letting it tell him what it wanted to be.

Andrew came out a little later, hair mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it and dark circles under his eyes. It didn’t look like he had slept.

“Morning,” Neil said, startled out of his thoughts.

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked him.

“I’m here to figure out what we’re doing with your yard,” Neil replied, a little confused. “Didn’t Allison tell you?”

Andrew’s eyebrows lowered as he stared at him. “Why?” he asked.

It wasn’t the question Neil was expecting. “Because having that yard basically being a wasteland of dirt is criminal?”

“Hey, it’s my wasteland of dirt,” Andrew argued, but there was something in his eyes that said he was hoping Neil would push back.

Neil smiled. “You deserve more than that.”

“That’s such bullshit. Nobody deserves anything,” Andrew said.

“Do you really believe that?” Neil asked, suddenly a little sad.

When he was on the run with his mother, sometimes he would skip out of school early and find the nearest public garden. He would spend as long as he could wandering the paths, finding the flowers whose names he knew, making note of those he didn’t so he could look them up later. He would find the most remote, untravelled part and he would sit there in the sun and pretend he was the only one in his world of green and growing things.

“How much is Allison paying you?” Andrew asked, pulling Neil from his memories.

“Nothing, I volunteered.”

“Why? What do you get out of this?” Andrew asked.

Neil could feel his face heating and he was forced to look away from Andrew’s intent gaze. He could see the pain and exhaustion in every inch of Andrew. “Everyone deserves a little beauty in their lives.”

“Huh,” Andrew said, a strange note in his voice. Neil made eye contact again. Andrew was still staring but now he looked almost confused, like Neil was a math problem he couldn’t solve. “Where are you going to start?”

“Can’t do much until that patio is out of here.” Neil gestured toward the house. “It’s pretty broken up already so I should be able to pry up the pieces and haul them away. If I have time, I’ll cut down that vine that’s covering your windows too.”

“No!” Andrew said, surprisingly vehement. His cheeks coloured immediately. “I like it. There’s a little bird that lives there.”

Neil smiled softly to himself. Even if Andrew felt he didn’t deserve to be surrounded by beauty, part of him was searching for it, clinging to it anyway.

* * *

Neil went back for a third Sunday. He had planned to replace the patio with gravel, but when Andrew greeted him, he was leaning heavily on a cane. Neil didn’t say anything about the gravel, just left it on the truck and, when he took a lemonade break, he put a rush order on paving stones. It would take longer and cost more but it would also be far steadier under foot. Instead, he started working on the flower beds, tilling the soil and setting out some of the bedding plants. Andrew stayed outside with him, listening to him talk and occasionally contributing to the flow of conversation.

On the fourth Sunday, Neil repaved the patio. Andrew didn’t help with that but he followed Neil’s directions and finished planting the bedding plants in the flower beds.

On the fifth Sunday, Neil lay in bed and wondered if he should even go. His dreams had been dark and a buzzing noise filled his head, a barrier between him and reality. If he closed his eyes, he might just float away entirely.

The flower beds were basically finished and the paving stones had all been laid the week before. Neil’s obligation was over and done. Andrew could have his quiet home back and Neil could stay away, no matter how much he wanted to return.

The stray thought surprised him, breaking through the muzzy blankness filling his mind with static. He wanted to go back. He wanted to spend time with Andrew. He didn’t want Andrew’s garden to be finished just yet.

He was distracted and tired. Thankfully, he had been to Andrew’s place enough times that muscle memory could take over. Otherwise, he’s not sure he would have gotten there.

Andrew was waiting outside the house. He didn’t smile when he saw Neil, but Neil saw the softening of his features that (he hoped) meant Andrew was happy to see him.

Normally Neil was the one who carried the conversation, but words were having a hard time finding their way through the fog.

So Neil planted trees and Andrew spoke.

Neil breathed in. He could smell the rich earth, the flowers in their beds, and the lingering scent of early morning showers. He could feel the soil beneath his hands as he carefully lowered the tree into the hole he had dug. He could see the results of his hard labor, the balance of colour and shape that was his signature style. He could taste sweet lemonade on his tongue from the glass Andrew had poured for him before he arrived. He could hear Andrew’s voice, talking about the book he was writing, deep and comforting in its familiarity. Neil breathed out.

Andrew’s voice faltered and stopped.

Neil looked up immediately. “Is that it?”

Andrew’s brow smoothed out and he shook his head before continuing.

Neil felt real again.

* * *

The rest of the summer flew by. Neil kept finding more reasons to go back to Andrew’s house. Andrew never told him to stop so Neil felt no need to stay away. Andrew’s garden was a bird’s paradise and Neil felt more pride in this one plot of land than all the other gardens he had worked on combined. It made sense; all the other gardens belonged to someone else. He came in, worked his magic, and left without a backward glance. Andrew’s garden belonged to the both of them. They had built it together.

On the last Sunday in August, Neil arrived and Andrew was nowhere to be seen. Sometimes Andrew took his time coming out, letting Neil get started on his task for the day, but after half an hour, Andrew had yet to make an appearance.

Neil knew where Andrew kept his spare key so he unlocked the door and walked inside. Andrew wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. The bathroom door was open but the bedroom door was closed. Neil knocked but he didn’t hear anything from inside.

He slowly opened the door to see Andrew, still in bed, staring up at the ceiling with glassy eyes and seemingly unaware of Neil’s presence.

“Andrew?” Neil asked.

Andrew groaned wordlessly and Neil hurried to Andrew’s side.

“How can I help?”

“I need to take my meds,” Andrew rasped. Neil winced at the gravel in his voice.

“Bathroom?” Neil asked.

Andrew nodded and Neil was already moving. There was a pill case sitting out on the counter. Neil grabbed it and detoured to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and a straw.

Andrew was still lying where Neil had left him.

“Can I?” Neil asked, making sure to telegraph his movements.

Andrew nodded and Neil gently maneuvered his arm around Andrew’s shoulders to help him sit up at the head of the bed. He was suddenly struck by the realization that, although they’d been spending time together for weeks, this was the first time they’d touched.

Neil let go as soon as he knew Andrew wasn’t going to slump over. He held the glass so Andrew could sip and handed him his pills one at a time.

When the pills were finished, Andrew sat still, avoiding Neil’s gaze, and breathing through the pain. Neil didn’t push, waiting for Andrew to make the first move.

“Why are you here?” Andrew finally asked.

“It’s Sunday,” Neil said. Andrew looked at him then, uncertainty in his eyes. Neil wanted to hold his hand but didn’t want to cause him pain. “Did you think I was just coming for the garden?”

A muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumped. “Why else would you bother?”

“Andrew...I could have finished that garden in two weeks if I wanted to. That was my plan at first.” Neil had never liked putting his vulnerability on display. Even with his closest friends, there was always a wall, hiding away his deepest thoughts and feelings. With Andrew it was different. Neil thought perhaps he could consent to being known, if Andrew was the one knowing. “But then you wouldn’t let me cut down that damn vine because the sparrow likes it…”

Andrew closed his eyes. “I will never be more than this, Neil.”

There were a hundred things that Neil could say. Neil was broken too. He had trauma in his past that he would never forget. He carried many scars, beyond the ones that marked his face. Neil was also lonely, and he saw something in Andrew that he recognized. He knew that the pain of his past, the ugliness of his ruined skin, did not mean he didn’t deserve something beautiful.

“You’re Andrew,” Neil whispered. “What more do you need to be?”

* * *

Neil woke slowly, a smile on his lips. He breathed in. Green light filtered through the open window. Neil could hear the birds, chirping from the vine outside, and deep even breathing. He could smell fresh air from outside, laundry detergent, and a hint of morning breath. He could feel the softness of the mattress below him and strong arms around him, cradling him close. He breathed out.


End file.
